


Playing Games

by Inell



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bill/Fleur/Hermione is referenced, F/F, First HP fic in 5 years meep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-18
Updated: 2014-08-18
Packaged: 2018-02-13 18:02:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2159955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inell/pseuds/Inell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She doesn’t want to make it an easy victory</p>
            </blockquote>





	Playing Games

**Author's Note:**

> I've had writer's block for about two years, and I haven't written in HP fandom in nearly 5 years. I wrote this today, and I'm so very happy to have written something even if I'm nervous about being so rusty.

The sun is low in the west, and the water is starting to lose its warmth. Hermione can see goosepimples appearing on her flesh as she stops swimming in order to admire the shades of purple and red that now cover the darkening sky. There’s a moment when she considers swimming further from shore, wanting to feel the strain in her muscles that always accompanies a long distance swim, but she knows it will soon be too dark to return safely. There are lights on at Shell Cottage, but they don’t cast enough gleam to act as a point of reference from too far out. With a sigh, she reluctantly makes her way back to the beach, going slow and enjoying the sounds of the night that occasionally fill the silence.

When she feels wet sand against her arms, she knows she’s reached the shore. She stands in the shallow water and shivers as the cool night air whispers across her bare skin. It’s cooler than she thought, and her hair is heavy with water, droplets making their way down her flesh faster than she can reach for her towel. Hermione blinks when she realizes that her towel isn’t where she left it nor is the tidy pile of her clothes. Maybe she swam further away from her things than she planned.

She shivers again as she uses her hands to twist her long hair, squeezing water from it as she scans the beach. It’s not easy to see in the pale light of twilight, but she knows she’d be able to recognize a pile of clothing and her sandals if it was there. It isn’t. There’s no way that it could have been washed to sea because she left it far enough up on the beach to avoid the tide, which means someone has moved it. There are only two choices, of course, and she quickly eliminates one because he doesn’t play these types of games.

“Fleur, where are you?” Hermione tries to keep her tone sweet, but she fails. It’s more annoyed and demanding, which means she’s likely going to be getting colder. “You couldn’t have at least left me the towel? It’s cold.”

“You should ‘ave thought of that before swimming naked, ‘ermione.” Fleur’s voice is coming from her right, her tone amused and playful. “Eet ees too late in the year to be swimming in the evening.”

“It was perfectly warm enough before the sun started to set. The sand is still warm, even if the air isn’t.” Hermione refuses to allow Fleur the privilege of saying ‘I told you so’ regardless of how difficult it is to keep herself from rubbing her hands up and down her arms for warmth.

“Yes, eet ees,” Fleur agrees, her voice closer than before. Hermione finally spots her stepping out of the shadows of the cliff and sucks in a breath. Fleur’s clothes must be wherever hers are because they certainly aren’t covering her at the moment. Fleur’s lips curve into a smirk when she notices Hermione staring. “See something you like, my pretty?”

She licks her lips even as she stubbornly shakes her head. “Not a thing.” She adds a hmph to the end of her statement as if it emphasize that she’s not playing Fleur’s game.

“Tsk tsk, ‘ermione. You are lying. Do you know what ‘appens to liars?”

“I’m not lying. Where are my things, Fleur? Don’t make me call Bill.”

Fleur laughs. “My ‘usband is tied up right now.” Her smirk turns sensual. “’e wants to play with us, but ‘e must wait until we play our game. Eet ees more fun when ‘e is desperate, no?”

“Yes,” Hermione whispers, unable to ignore the question when her mind is easily imagining Bill tied to the bed waiting for them. Muscles straining against the magical bindings, cock red and swollen, wetness against his belly from where the head has brushed his golden skin during his struggles. It’s more a memory than imagination, of course, as she’s witnessed it several times during the eight months she’s been involved with him and Fleur. “What did you…is he wearing the gag?”

“No.” Fleur shakes her head, blonde hair brushing against Hermione’s arm and startling her. She’s moved closer while she was distracted, just as Fleur planned, no doubt. “‘is mouth will be busy when we return, after all. Try again.”

The wicked smile speaks just as loud as words, and Hermione knows what to add to the mental image of Bill. “The plug. And the blindfold?” The plug is something new that she brought to their play, and it’s become one of her and Fleur’s favorite toys to use on Bill. And one of his, too.

“Eet ees amazing ‘ow well you know me.” Fleur leans forward, ghosting her lips across Hermione’s cheek as she whispers in her ear. “I also used the ring, so that ‘e will not enjoy ‘imself too much without us. ‘e cannot see anything. It makes ‘im so desperate, feeling and ‘earing without being able to see. We will make ‘im beg us tonight, ‘ermione. Would you like that?”

“You have it all planned, don’t you?” Hermione arches a brow and takes a step back, not wanting Fleur to win _too_ easily. She crosses her arms across her chest, deliberately positioning them in a way that draws attention to her breasts. Her nipples are hard, aching to be touched, and she knows she’s managed a small victory when Fleur is distracted at the sight of them. “What if I want to make _you_ beg, too?”

“You will have to do more than show me your pretty breasts, ‘ermione,” Fleur says, looking up to stare at her. “Eet ees your move, as they say. My ‘usband can wait for us. Do you want to play?”

Her move. Hermione loves playing with Fleur, but she’s not often the victor because she’s still getting used to her own sexuality and the freedom that she has to explore. She’s braver now, able to take control and introduce things she wants, like the plug and even riding Fleur’s fingers in the bathroom of their favorite pub just a few weeks ago. She’s still learning, though, and it’s so easy to surrender and let Fleur take over, even if it means losing one of their games. Tonight, she’s feeling frisky, and she knows it’s going to be a hard-earned victory for Fleur by the time they’re done. She’ll make it up to Bill later.

“My breasts aren’t enough? I thought you loved my breasts. You’re always talking about how nice they feel in your hands and how you love watching them bounce as I ride your husband.” Hermione fakes a pout as she moves her fingers over one of her nipples, shuddering from the cold and the sensation both. “My nipples are so sensitive. It almost hurts to touch them. Can you see how swollen they are, love?”

“I do love your breasts. And your nipples. I see them, so hard. They need warmed up. Eet ees too cold for them.” Fleur licks her lips and moves her hand to her own breast. “Mine are ‘ard, too. Would you warm them up, ‘ermione?”

“I think you’re doing well enough on your own, Fleur.” Hermione smiles as she takes another step away before sinking to her knees. The sand is wet and grainy on her skin, but she doesn’t pay it much attention as she shifts around until her arse is on the ground and her legs are spread. “There are other ways to get warm, you know?”

Fleur’s eyes don’t stray from her hand as she moves it between her legs and slowly drags her fingers across her damp lips. “You have such a pretty pussy, ‘ermione.” Fleur moves to her knees, continuing to fondle her breasts as she watches Hermione. “Spread yourself open for me. Let me see eet.”

“Would you like to feel it?” Hermione bites her bottom lip as she pinches one of her nipples, enjoying the slight painful sensation. The movement catches Fleur’s attention, causing her to glance up and stare at Hermione’s breasts before she returns her gaze lower. Hermione drags her finger up and down, teasing herself just as much as she’s teasing Fleur. When she pushes the finger inside slightly, just the tip, she moans. “Oh. I’m already so wet. It’s so warm, too.”

“Eet ees not enough, ‘ermione. One finger will not give you what you need.” Fleur makes a scoffing noise and crawls closer. “ _I_ can give you what you need. You just ‘ave to ask, my pretty.”

It’s so tempting to give in, but Hermione knows she’s got more willpower than this. They’ve barely started, and she isn’t about to let Fleur have the satisfaction of such an easy win. “You’re right,” she says, waiting until she sees Fleur’s smug smile before continuing, “I do need more. Lucky that I’ve got more fingers, isn’t it?” She eases the whole finger inside, shifting her position on the damp sand so that she has better access. They’ll have to shower before going to Bill because she knows this sand is going to end up in the most uncomfortable places by the time they’re done.

Fleur actually pouts when she realizes that Hermione’s not giving in yet. “Eet ees not nice to tease,” she murmurs, moving forward until she’s between Hermione’s spread legs. Her hair is soft against her skin, and Hermione slides a second finger inside when Fleur rests her cheek against her knee.

“Really? I learned it from the best,” Hermione says, breath catching when her knuckle rub against her clit. She watches Fleur bite her lip hard, but she doesn’t reach out to touch yet. “After all, you said teasing is half the fun.”

“Eet ees wrong to use my lessons against me, ‘ermione.” Fleur looks at her then, and the look in her eyes is almost enough to make Hermione’s breath catch again. “You are a good student, though. Too good.”

“I’ve always loved mastering every subject.” Hermione leans back as Fleur crawls over her, still not touching but so close that she can feel her warmth. Talk about not playing fair! This should cause a forfeit, not that she’s going to speak up right now to argue about it. She licks her lips, slow and deliberate, before she asks, “Do you want to touch?”

“Yes,” Fleur whispers against her lips. “But not until you beg me, ‘ermione. Do you want my fingers inside you? My tongue?” She exhales slowly, breath warm against Hermione’s wet lips, and she’s envious of just how bloody good Fleur is at this because that one breath is like a high wind knocking down Hermione’s defenses.

“I _hate_ you,” Hermione growls before closing the brief distance between them and kissing Fleur. Lost again, but at least it wasn’t an easy victory. As their tongues curl around each other and Fleur’s hands move down her body, Hermione can’t help but feel as if she’s won, anyway. When they pull apart, she whines. “Tongue and fingers. Please.”

“See, ‘ermione? Eet ees not so difficult to say please.” Fleur kisses her again, biting into her bottom lip as they separate. “That ees for saying you ‘ate me. I will spank you later for ‘urting my feelings.”

That shouldn’t make her excited, but it does. Hermione wiggles beneath Fleur, twining her fingers in blonde hair and pushing her down. Finally, Fleur is where she wants her, and she stares up at the night sky as fingers slide into her. Fleur’s tongue is quick as she licks, teasing and tormenting Hermione until she’s even more desperate. Fleur laughs at the threats, teasing even more until Hermione’s sweaty and begging. Only then does she focus and lick with intent, fingers moving deep and hard, rubbing and twisting as she sucks on Hermione’s clit. It doesn’t take long before Hermione’s coming. Fleur keeps fingering her as she moves up to capture Hermione’s cries of release with her mouth.

Hermione returns the kiss, tasting herself on Fleur’s tongue, riding out her orgasm on Fleur’s hand. When she’s finally able to think again, she rolls them over, moving her hand between Fleur’s legs and making quick work of her. She’s so wet and already on edge that it doesn’t take much before she’s whining into their kiss, shuddering and trembling her own release. Their wet fingers card through each other’s hair as they continue kissing, close enough to the water now that the tide laps at their skin as it reaches the beach. Hermione loses herself in Fleur, surrendering once again.

End


End file.
